


Give Me the Streets of Manhattan

by story_telling_sage



Category: Supernatural, White Collar
Genre: F/M, Gen, Heart Break, Nightmares, Recovery, psychic!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/story_telling_sage/pseuds/story_telling_sage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester has dreams that are more than dreams.<br/>Neal has a broken heart.<br/>Dean and Mozzie are both worried. </p><p>A combination of vengeful spirits, worry, and broken hearted boys adds up to quite an adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YvonneSilver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvonneSilver/gifts).



**“** We have to go to New York, Dean.”

 

“New York?” Dean asks incredulously. “What the hell is in New York, man?”

 

“I don’t know. But we need to go now. Someone- someone’s hurting. Bad.”

 

Dean should be used to this by now. His brother waking up in a blind panic rushing off to rescue a stranger he had seen die horribly in a dream of his. To say the least, Dean was not used to it. Who would ever get used to this?!?

 

_ Deep breathe, Dean-o,  _ he reminds himself as he grabs his already packed duffle. They never unack anymore. Too much rushing off without warning. 

 

When they get into the car, Sam is silent. Dean recognizes that brooding look, he could see the guilt eating away at his brother’s stomach. Why did Sam have to care so much? Why did Sam have to be the one stuck with prophetic dreams of people biting the dust?

 

Dean shook the thoughts out of his head as they pulled through a McDonald’s drive thru and ordered more coffee than any human should ever consume and then made their way to New York.

 

-oOo-

 

“Come on, Neal,” Mozzie says and he tries not to let the worry in the pit of his stomach leak into the air. These days weekends were the worst. Neal didn’t always have the job to distract him. Crime didn’t take a vacation but even Peter needed to take a weekend here and there. 

 

There was a time that Neal would have smirked and smiled, those blue eyes alight in a way that would make Peter worried about him getting up to trouble. Now Peter’s worried about Neal in an entirely different way. Mozzie’s worried too, but today he’s got a plan. 

 

“Seriously Neal, I have a surprise and that surprise will be utterly useless if you don’t get out of bed.”

 

“Don’t make me go get June,” Mozzie says, and it’s as close as he ever gets to begging.

 

Neal sits up, ridiculously handsome for a guy who hasn’t showered for three days, and he fakes a smile that Mozzie can see through all too easily. 

 

Mozzie lets out a breath and stands on the balcony while Neal showers and gets dressed and tries to feel human again. What did Neal do to deserve Kate? That bitch played him seven ways to Sunday and he still loved her and then… then she had to go and die on him. 

 

It was okay though. Mozzie had a plan.

 

-oOo-

 

“So, what’s in New York?” Dean asked once the sun had come up and they were a few hours into driving north. 

 

“Ghost hunt. I think. It… it felt like a ghost. It’s at an art warehouse or something. Maybe a private showing? It’s not like the dream gave me a freaking address. Just… just flashes.” Sam swallowed hard at the memory. 

 

First it had been the skyline, iconic as ever. Sam used to dream about that skyline. He thought New York air would taste something like freedom. Now Sam thought it probably just smelled about air pollution and over crowded streets. Oh well, it’s not like romanticism had gotten him anywhere good in the past. 

 

Next it had been a building, Victorian style. The building itself screamed elegance and wealth. That meant it had to be in the richer part of the city. Sam tried to keep himself pragmatic, but emotion was threatening to overwhelm him as he thought about the vision. 

 

The next flash had brought him to the inside of a warehouse, the all lined with paintings of all sorts. It was dark so Sam didn’t get a good look at his surroundings. He was also a bit distracted by the body hitting the opposite wall with a sickening thud. 

 

_ He looks like Ty _ , Sam thought briefly when he met those bewildered blue eyes. 

 

That was all Sam had the chance to think before he woke up screaming. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Dean conceded. “I just want some pizza while we’re there.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s attempt at a joke and thanked his lucky stars that Dean was holding it together like having a precognitive little brother wasn’t scaring the shit out of him.

 

“It’s okay Sammy, we’ll be there in a few hours. Don’t you worry.”

 

-oOo-

 

“It took a while to track it down but…” Mozzie handed Neal a set of keys. “It’s a warehouse on 155th street. It might… might give you some closure.”

Neal wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead he was staring down at the key. He didn’t know where it lead. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. There was too much going on, he was under so much scrutiny at the Bureau right now, Peter was paying dearly for Neal’s mistakes, his selfish wants. Closure was the furthest thing from his mind. 

 

Finding Kate’s killer? Making Peter and Mozzie stop looking at him like there was something broken there? Those were high on the list. But Neal had no idea what a warehouse on 155th street might bring him besides a possible mugging.

 

But this was Mozzie. This was the man who drank all his wine and rarely left him alone these days. This was Mozzie and Mozzie was  _ worried  _ so Neal smiled his best used car salesman smile and pocketed the key.

 

“Thanks Mozz, really, it means a lot. I’ll check it out soon.”

 

Mozzie smiled and Neal thought it was worth the lie.

 

-oOo-

 

Dean watched Sam nervously as his younger brother bedded down for the night. Tomorrow they’d head into the city to find Sam’s mystery man but for now it was time for some rest. Hopefully Sam would sleep through the night.

 

Of course that was too much to ask for. Of course it was. In the middle of the night Dean woke up to the sound of his brother’s screams. This was becoming painfully par for the course. 

 

“Sammy,” Dean said softly, knowing better now than to touch his brother while he was still in the middle of a nightmare. Last time he did, he had gotten thrown bodily against the opposite wall by Sam’s psychic mojo. As much as he hated it, he just had to wait for it to be over.

  
It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Neither of the two Winchesters got much sleep the night before but that doesn’t change the fact that they hit the hard streets of New York early in search for a big, fancy building in a sea of big fancy buildings. Dean had never liked New York. 

 

Sam is twitching in the passenger seat, the busy noise of the city putting him on edge.

 

“What if-” Sam starts but cuts himself off, looking back out the window. The guilt was obvious, written across his brother’s face like a neon sign. He’d been looking guilty since five o’clock that morning. 

 

“We’ll find your new boyfriend, Sammy,” Dean assures. Sam doesn’t laugh. That doesn’t surprise Dean, but he still wishes his brother would laugh. Anything would be better than his worried silence.

 

“Come on, we need to get some food into you,” he says and begins his desperate search for a parking spot, muttering something about  _ freaking New York _ and  _ freaking traffic _ and  _ damn this city directly to hell _ . 

 

Damn this city because when they eventually make their way to a bagel truck Sam doesn’t look like he can eat and just picks at his food. That is until a man with a dashing smile and the world’s most blue eyes walks up to the truck and Sam’s eyes go wide.

 

-oOo-

 

Two men were staring at him. Neal could feel their eyes on him since he joined the morning queue. He risked a quick glance to the pair.

 

Altogether they didn’t look like much. Old clothes, second hand judging by their worn look. Calloused hands, well muscled, lots of scars, cold eyes. Did Kate’s killer send someone to finish the job?

 

“ _ You’re being paranoid,”  _ he could hear Peter say.

 

“ _ You’re only paranoid if you’re wrong,”  _ Mozzie argued back.

 

Neal was drawn out of the conversation in his head by the smiling cashier. He smiled and ordered, shooting another glance at the pair while he waited. Their heads were bent together, voices at a hoarse whisper. Probably arguing about the best way to kill him. An everything bagel in hand and Neal was gone. Paranoid or not, he wasn’t taking chances.

 

It wasn’t until a few blocks later when Neal caught sight of the two men again that he felt cold panic bubble up inside of him. The older one looked hardened, focused, like a hunter used to catching his prey. The younger one looked cautiously worried, determination in every stride of his long legs.

 

“ _ Run,”  _ Neal heard Kate’s voice say in his mind. He didn’t second guess it. He just ran.

 

-oOo-

 

Sam’s legs were longer now. He had been fourteen once, almost a foot shorter than Dean and running just to get lost. Now he was 6’3” and he knew his place. Sam  _ saved  _ people.

 

So when the man with the blue eyes took off, Sam followed suit. It wasn’t hard for him to catch up, cornering him in a vacant street. He could hear Dean’s footsteps not far behind, slow, deliberate, and threatening. 

 

“What do you want?” the man tried to demand but his voice was shaking.

 

“Please,” Sam said gently, “we’re not here to hurt you.”

 

A disbelieving snort.

 

A growl from Dean.

 

A panicked breath.

 

“My name is Sam Winchester,” he said as earnestly as possible. “I just want to help. You’re in danger.”

 

“Do you know who killed her?” the man demanded, blue eyes pleading with hazel. Heartbreak and anxiety and fear shining through.

 

Sam’s heart lept into his throat as he met those eyes, a face flashing in his mind. Long blonde hair and a gentle smile. The smell of chocolate chip cookies. The smell of burning. He flicked his gaze back to Dean for a split second, letting him know a decision has been made.

 

-oOo-

 

“I want to help. You’re in danger,” the man - Sam - said, arms wide and open, every inch of him trying to appear non threatening. The older one wasn’t quite as willing to let his guard down, green eyes never leaving Neal and a scarred hand never leaving his gun.

 

Neal had to ask. He had to know. If he was in danger it was because Kate’s killers were back to finish the job and they were going to regret coming after Neal. Because they took her from him. 

 

“Do you know who killed her?” he asked, voice coming out shaky and desperate and he didn’t even care. He looked Sam in the eyes and saw pain there. The same pain he saw in the mirror every morning before covering it up with a smile.

 

“No,” Sam said quietly, “but we might be able to help.”

  
And for the first time since Neal watched his future go up in flames, he allowed himself to hope. 


End file.
